


160. Ophelia

by tveckling



Series: Dare to Write challenge [26]
Category: Hamlet - All Media Types, Romeo And Juliet - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Ophelia does get herself to a nunnery, Rosaline has no patience for controlling men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-08-07 18:09:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7724551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tveckling/pseuds/tveckling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the unexpected verbal assault from the one she thought loved her Ophelia has broken into pieces, and seeks safety and comfort in the convent she was told to go to. When there she finds more comfort than she thought she ever could.</p>
            </blockquote>





	160. Ophelia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ambrose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ambrose/gifts).



Hamlet’s words are still echoing in her head. Ophelia recalls all too well his furious eyes as his assault continues, and every time she does her heart throbs and her eyes ache. Before that she had thought his love for her was a true and honest thing, but after she finds it hard to believe in anything.

Her father isn’t too hard to convince, not when she is in such a state, and within a short amount of time Ophelia finds herself in front of a convent’s door. Her hand is trembling as she reaches out, and the panicked thought of ‘what am I doing?’ runs through her mind. She can still turn around, she can still go back.

But that would mean going back to him. Her once-love. Her Hamlet.

She pushes the door open and walks through, searching uncertaintly for something yet unknown as she moves. There is peace and quiet, and she is alone in the greeting hall. From further inside she can hear voices but she hesitates. Should she continue on her own or should she wait? The letter had said there would be someone to greet her, but so far she hasn’t seen a soul. She doesn’t know where she is supposed to go.

The tightness in her throat is pressing harder, and her hands tighten in her dress. It’s not hard to imagine Hamlet laughing at her for not knowing what she is supposed to do next. It’s just like her, always needing to be told exactly what to do.

“Hello.”

The voice cuts through Ophelia’s thoughts like a knife, and suddenly she can breathe again. The woman who spoke stands a few steps away from Ophelia, her hands easily clasped in front of her, a kind smile on her face as she waits for Ophelia to focus. She doesn’t look much older than Ophelia, but she seems wiser somehow, and certainly calmer.

“You are Ophelia, aren’t you? My name is Rosaline. I’m sorry for making you wait, it was not my intention. If you’ll follow me I’ll take you to your room.”

Ophelia murmurs her thanks and follows Rosaline through corridor after corridor. Even though Ophelia stays silent—her stomach is turning badly and she don’t want to risk opening her mouth, even if she had known what to say—Rosaline is happy to talk. She is intelligent and well-read, that much Ophelia discovers after a couple minutes, and she doesn’t harbor a high opinion of men in general.

“If you would take my cousin, then. Imagine a boy not yet reaching adulthood who has got the idea that he is the sole protector of all his female relatives’ honors, and he will protect them with all ferocity he can muster. Even if a silly little boy is doing nothing but sending sweet, innocent little letters of poems my cousin flies into a fury and demands to know exactly what I have done.” Rosaline sighs and rolls her eyes, waving a hand dismissively in the air. “It was, of course, none of his business what I had done, and I told him as much before I sent him out of my room. The truth is I had no interest in the boy—he was much younger than me, to begin with—and I had ignored every attempt he made to catch my attention. But there was no reason for Tybalt to know that, and he had to learn that simply because he was a man did not mean he had control over me.”

Ophelia nods firmly. “Just before he left for France my brother told me to stay away from my boyfriend, using a whole speech before I finally agreed just to get him to stop talking. And then right after he had left my father started the same tirade.”

“Boyfriends are often cause for such behavior, I’ve noticed,” Rosaline says and sighs. “Why brothers and fathers and cousins alike must be so overprotective and overbearing is beyond me. It makes it hard to breathe, and then they always say things and give warnings that you are already fully aware of or that will never happen. It’s ridiculous.”

Ophelia shallows around the tightness in her throat. “Sometimes they might be right, though,” she says quietly, her eyes turned to the floor.

Rosaline pushes up a door before she turns around with a frown and crossed arms. “And why do you say that?”

“Sometimes… sometimes a person you think you know well will turn around and hurt you,” Ophelia answers, still without looking up. “And it will have been just the person your brother and father warned you about, and they will have been right, and you learn that you should have listened better.”

Rosaline makes a furious noise, and Ophelia curiously peers at her. “That is in no way true. Men will always think the worst of people and they will warn you about everything that might or might not happen, but that doesn’t mean they’re right. If your boyfriend hurt you then it’s his fault for hurting you, not yours for not listening mindlessly to those thinking they know better.”

Ophelia feels her heart lighten as she listens to Rosaline, and she follows her into the room, staring in awe as Rosaline begins a long rant. When she sits down on the bed Ophelia idly notices that she doesn’t hear Hamlet’s words any longer, and she can breathe unhindered. Maybe coming to the convent wasn’t a bad idea, she thinks and smiles at Rosaline.


End file.
